


The Game

by Fable



Series: Merlin [12]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Game playing, Hunting, M/M, Magic, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:59:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fable/pseuds/Fable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in a time when Arthur has accepted Merlin is a sorcerer and enjoys the games they play, one in particular.</p><p>'Arthur’s eyes scanned the curve of his shoulders, the long exposed throat and the sinewy upper arms. He moistened his lips. Here was his quarry. Here was his prize.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game

**Author's Note:**

> Based loosely on a passage from a short story by Peter Tremayme and also inspired by a friend who commented on a previous story saying ‘I do like how you're always having them playing games.’

   Arthur halted mid-stride, he tipped his head to one side and listened. He could hear the flutter of un-seen wings and the slip of the breeze but he couldn’t hear his quarry. He frowned and took a few steps to the left, hesitated then took a few steps forward. The darkling woods at night were, well, dark.

   He was a tall man with broad shoulders and a mass of blonde hair. In the heat of the summer’s night he was dressed in a simple tunic and breeches, he knew that armour was useless against this particular quarry. Long muscles strung tightly across his bare arms as he tossed his sword from hand to hand.

   A barely visible path snaked through the trees in front of him. Moonlight played with the canopy and silvery shapes danced at the Arthur’s feet. Despite the warmth he shivered as he pushed his way through the spidery tangle of bushes and undergrowth.

   The sound of water met his ears, not the gentle shushing of a stream but the angry roar of a waterfall as it collided with rocks. He dropped to the earth, his heart rapid in his chest and his body prepared. He crawled on all fours through the undergrowth until the trees thinned.

   In a clearing, lit by the moonlight was a lake. Long dark shadows flittered on its grey surface and at the foot of a waterfall where the calm water met the wild, knelt a figure.

   A naked figure. A young man, no older than he was.

   The white water gushed over the pale skin and down the thin body. Wet black fingers of hair pointed to where water droplets shimmered on his face like diamonds. His eyes were shut and his mouth was parted. He knelt in the pounding icy water, hands resting in his lap and did not move, not one muscle.

   Arthur's eyes scanned the curve of his shoulders, the long exposed throat and the sinewy upper arms. He moistened his lips. Here was his quarry. Here was his prize. A quiver of excitement rushed through his body as he crept along the fringe of the lake, placing his feet softly on the ground and keeping to the shadows.

   The figure in the waterfall flinched, ‘I hear you Sire.’ the strong voice sounded like it didn’t belong to the slight frame.

   Arthur sighed and stood upright. It was useless to try and deceive Merlin. ‘Then come out and finish it,’ he shouted.

   Merlin rose from his kneeling position and turned to face the Arthur. It was clear he was cold but he did not recognise the fact. His wet skin looked as transparent as dragonfly’s wings and his full lips had turned the colour of lake water. As he moved towards him Arthur could see his eyes flickering from sapphire blue to gold. Merlin emerged from the water solid and sure. He stood in front of Arthur and met his gaze.

   ‘Well…?’

   Arthur dropped and spun his sword. He was ready to fight. He swung at Merlin. He did not know how he came to be on the ground eating dust, but he had a pretty good idea. He looked up, Merlin was stood over him, one foot either side of Arthur’s chest. He tutted and puffed out his cheeks. Arthur growled at the embarrassment of been floored, but as compensation he had a really great view. He jumped up and wheeled his sword around in his hand. He struck out again. Merlin danced around him, as light on his feet as moon sparkles on the water. Again, Arthur did not know how he ended up sprawled against a tree, gasping for air, his sword hand empty. A pale face with high cheekbones was inches from him. Gold eyes changed to sapphire as he watched.

   ‘Concede?’

   ‘No.’

   ‘I win… I claim my prize…’

   Arthur opened his mouth to protest but was silenced as soft lips covered his own. A weight pushed onto his chest and icy hands wriggled under his tunic.

   ‘Oh, no you don’t.’ Arthur wriggled out from under his weight and scooped up his sword. He turned, spinning the sword round and around at its helm. He pointed the tip at Merlin. Then with a roar to match the roar of the waterfall he charged. Merlin’s movements were so quick they fooled his eyes and again he found himself sprawled in the dust. He jumped up and charged. He had his sword arm across his chest and his back in the earth before he had time to blink.

   ‘Concede?’ Merlin pulled him up.

   Arthur groaned, closed his eyes and surrendered. ‘Yes.’ Soft lips met his. He parted his mouth and yielded to the warm exploring tongue.

   He felt a hand slip around his waist and pull him close. He moaned as his head was tilted back and little kiss-bites were placed on his exposed throat. He pulled back, just a little; he still wanted to feel a naked Merlin pressed against him. At this moment he wanted that more than anything.

   ‘You cheat…’ he breathed.

   ‘I am a sorcerer Arthur, you’ll never win.’ The words drifted in the space between them.

   ‘I thought this time the water trial would have dulled your reactions…’

   ‘Um… sorcerer…’

   Arthur growled as cold fingers lifted his tunic off and tossed it aside. ‘I’ll win one day, Merlin.’

   ‘Of course you will, Sire,’ Merlin said as he undid Arthur’s breeches. They dropped and he kicked them across the forest floor.

   A breeze fluttered the canopy and the air hung heavy with the scent of pine. Long slate coloured clouds pulled across the waning moon. Merlin pushed Arthur into the nearest tree forcing him against the rough bark. He leaned in and kissed him whilst running his hands down his tight smooth torso. Arthur took a sharp intake of breath. Merlin confused the hell out of him, but one thing he was certain of was this particular sorcerer put a fire in his belly that he couldn’t extinguish.

   ‘It’s really dark.’ Arthur murmured into Merlin’s neck.

   Merlin incanted under his breath and his eyes glowed. Arthur was quite sure he would never get used to that. A thousand fireflies appeared. Tiny dots of flickering orange light scattered around their naked bodies like the dust from fairies.

   Merlin whispered in Arthur’s ear. ‘I wish to claim my prize.’

   The wicked note in Merlin’s voice made Arthur’s heart drum as he turned and leant his forehead onto the flickering orange tree. He couldn’t see Merlin but he could hear him, his breathing was coming in short rasps. He heard a small moan as a lash struck his bare backside.

   Whoa. He didn’t expect that, his body bucked. He cried out in pain. He also cried out with desire.

   ‘Where the hell did you get a lash?’

   ‘Um… sorcerer.’

  Arthur’s fingers clawed the tree for purchase as the lash struck again. He could hear Merlin groaning behind him, stealing pleasure from every stroke.

   ‘You. Enjoying. This?’ Arthur managed. The lash beat again. Arthur howled.

   ‘Oh, yes Sire. More than you could imagine.’

   Arthur’s breathing was ragged and he was glazed with sweat as he heard the leather drop to the earth. A few beats passed.

   Arthur juddered as he felt soft gentle hands with long fingers caressing his sore arse. They moved in slow traveling circles as they worked across his welted cheeks. A deep sound rumbled in his throat as he pushed himself further into Merlin’s exploring hands.

   ‘Sire?’ barely a whisper broke Merlin’s lips. ‘Do you want me?’

   Arthur could hear a youthful innocence in the question. A shudder ran up from his toes. ‘Oh, yes.’ He was effectively blind with his head buried into the bark of the tree, but he could smell – an aroma of grape-seed oil filled his nostrils. He didn’t want to know where it had come from. His breath hitched as the cold slick lotion was applied. Fingers worked it into every crease before running down between his cheeks. Waves of pleasure crashed over Arthur as Merlin pressed into him. Again and again. He whimpered as hands slipped down in-between his thighs and forced them apart.

   The next sensation he felt set every nerve in his body on fire. Merlin pushed into him. Both men took a sharp in-take of breath and held it….

   Merlin strayed one slippery hand over Arthur’s goose bumped abdomen, fingers randomly searching and caressing. That was very nearly enough to push him over the edge. He mewled like a new-born kitten, quiet at first but getting louder as Merlin built a rhythm.

   Merlin’s moans matched Arthur’s in volume as he gave in to his need. Arthur clawed at the flickering tree, he needed something, anything, to grab onto. Merlin was sturdier than he looked, that’s for sure.

   Fingers curled themselves one by one around Arthur’s desperate need. Arthur flung his head back and howled like a thousand demons as Merlin increased his hand and hip rhythm.

   ‘Not long, not long’ Arthur managed to let the words escape.

   ‘No,’ Merlin panted. A few seconds later he cried out his master’s name as he came.

   Arthur pressed his head into the bark and wrapped both of his hands over Merlin’s fingers and thrust into his own satisfying conclusion.

   Merlin rested his head on Arthur’s back for a long moment before they collapsed onto the earth breathless. Arthur turned to rest against the tree. Merlin shuffled up to sit next to him.

   The King leaned over and placed his lips onto the boys. It was a gentle and loving meeting of mouths.

   ‘I will win next time Sorcerer.’

   ‘Yes, My Lord.’

 

**Author's Note:**

> Love doesn’t just sit there like a stone from the lake, it has to be made and re-made.


End file.
